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never write the letter ..

The time is coming and flowing evening
I'm looking for with the imagination with a kind of happiness

I'm already thinking of you.
Among the various directions taken to countries

unreachable and I hid in my defense
am remembering you.
And if the picture is confused
your color does not fade and is

talking about you this day that ends here. Tomorrow

change the furniture and maybe change slowly but I
into this new change
I have hidden you.
Objects here disorderly
I make up my mind to throw them away, but something mysteriously

me back to you.
A window closes
but I'm looking through the blinds and I'm surprised the city

looking for you as I do;
and if the brain takes over
hidden items to throw away
but pulls a wind that I already know
I think nostalgia